Moments
by cminor131
Summary: A collection of missing moment vignettes exploring different moments in Han and Leia's relationship and how they respond to them. Not a songfic, but inspired by Coldplay's 'Fix You'.


"Hey."

She looked up as he slid around the door. Unsteady from exhaustion and adrenaline, and probably a little alcohol thrown in for good measure, he pressed his shoulder against the wall to steady himself as he looked down at her.

"You're not meant to be in here without permission," she replied without bite.

Han waved his hand. "I figure if you didnt want company you would've shut the door." The fact that it was three in the morning and the likelihood of anyone else happening by was minimal didn't appear to occur to him. "How come you're still up?"

Leia shrugged minutely. For a moment she looked like she was going to answer him, and then her jaw clenched and she looked away.

Tired silence stretched out. Han studied his hands, awkwardly and obviously trying to think of something to say. "We.. ah. We picked up the repulsors you wanted," he said finally. And lamely, even to his own ears. "They're down in bay four. We had to fight some Imperials for them. But they look pretty good."She didnt answer, and he saw the tightening of muscles in her back.

They'd fought last week. But not the kind of fight where things were made up with a round of gentle teasing. Han, just back from nearly having his ship shot out from under him during an arms run, irritable and edgy, had really blown it. Blown up at her, too, and said some things that...

Well. He didnt like repeating them, even to himself. But those words had thrown up a wall that he hadn't figured out how to bring down, and to be honest he wasn't sure she wanted it brought down.

He ran his hand along the entrance, tried again. "Aren't you tired?"

"Yes."

"Well.." Um. Damn, but he hated this. The quiet disappointment was worse than the loudest yelling. "Are you on shift anytime soon? 'Cause if you're not, I can go get you a hot drink or something. Maybe that would -"

"Go away, Han."

He fell into a silence that constricted his chest, his hand gripping the cold metal wall. Conflicting emotions rattled inside his heart, and through his body nearly moved away at her request, he couldnt bring himself, despite anger, despite grief, despite injury, to leave her.

Leia waited, and at the lack of footsteps, tried again. "Han. Please. Go away."

But in those words, he caught the barely perceptible crack, the catch in her breath that revealed her. So he slid fully into the room, sat down next to her, cautious and nervous, his hands clasped between his knees. Her back towards him, he could see the anger that still stiffened her muscles. But she didnt throw him out.

The fact was, fight or no fight, with Luke assigned elsewhere and Chewbacca busy halfway around the planet training commando squads in Wookiee hand-to-hand combat styles, neither of them had anyone else.

And so, when Han slid an arm around her shoulders and turned her into a warm, sheltering hug, the part that hated him in that moment dissolved, and there was only Han, the man who somehow managed to be right behind her every time she needed him. The arms that went around her were comfort, the space between his collar and chin were she could hide her face was familiar, and his warmth was assurance. It was only in that secret place her youth could emerge.

Suddenly it was no longer terrifying to admit, "I miss my dad."

_When you try your best but you dont succeed  
When you get what you want but not what you need  
When you feel so tired but you cant sleep  
Stuck in reverse  
_

She found him a darkened corner, his knees up at his chest, his head cradled in his arms. For a moment she desperately wished he had just fallen asleep there, if only to ease the grief for a moment. But then his shoulders jumped, and she heard muffled behind his arms the half-strangled growl of a person who cant decide to scream or sob.

Her entry into the room distorted the shaft of light that came through the open doorway, and Han half turned away from her. The shame in him was obvious even without the Force or knowing him as well as she did. He desired, more than anything, to be a strong husband.

But here there was loss he could barely understand and never comprehend. Leia saw in his strained arms the inability to physically handle the emotion raging in him. But he wiped his face roughly on the back of his sleeve and grunted, "I'm okay."

It was only since Chewie that Han had gone back to his old ways, of bottling up against her. Overwhelming pain like this was something he simply was not equipped to manage. Old pride rose again in him, Leia saw. He certainly wasnt going to hand over his hurt to someone else.

But she knew. She'd followed that path herself. She knew the feeling of her own voice pounding in her head, where moving on means nothing but disrespect. Nights of red-rimmed eyes, of staring at the ceiling while sleeping in bursts of fitful dreams, the body resting in limbo of knowing something _must_ change, even as nothing does. Her own body ached in sympathy as she remembered the body's expectancy of a return to the old that would never happen.

Padding in front of him, she sat on her haunches and allowed her fingers to play across his damp, outstretched hand. Automatically, he tried to draw away, compassion too much for his overloaded system. But her hand chased his retreat, her fingers skimming over his palm, and as that pulled away, up his forearm to his elbow.

Letting her warmth smooth over his skin, she murmured, "The kids are away tonight." The quiet assurance of someone who knew what he needed, and she felt him relax slightly. No need to pretend for them, tonight.

And though in his despair there was only room for one, she still molded her fingers around his elbow, and with a gentle tug pulled him, unresisting, into a calm, strong hug. His chest caught in jagged gasps, his face wet against her arm, but her hands were strong around his back, her fingers steady as they ran along the back of his neck. And despite her size, Han had never felt safer. Here for him, regardless of the rage and sadness, was home.

And it wasnt so scary to admit to her quietly, "Chewie's never coming back."

_And the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you cant replace  
When you love someone but it goes to waste  
Could it be worse?  
_

Leia shuffled through the door of the combat room, her mind dull but desperate for a change of scenery. Another night, another pitched battle, another cluster of hours watching lights that signified one or more pilots slowly wink out - dying for orders she'd approved. The small observation room next door, with its food and drink dispensers and view of a star system not currently the host of a mutual mass slaughter, was a comparative comfort.

Han was there, his back towards her, standing close to the viewport, hot drink in hand. He'd been up for days, she knew. The burden of his rescue from Jabba rested heavily on him, manifested in a newfound desire to prove himself to people other than herself and Luke. He offered long hours, sleepless nights, giving what he could in the way of military expertise and co-ordinating shipments of supplies to and from their haphazard collection of capital ships.

And hovering. Their relationship was a secret from all but Chewbacca, Luke and Lando. There were people in High Command who suspected, of course. Rieekan knew at least Leias feelings, though not if they had been reciprocated. It was Rieekan who had green lighted the mission to Tatooine to grab Han back from Jabba. He'd woven an impressive story to the rest of the commanders who were skeptical about spending precious resources to retrieve someone who was only nominally a member of the Alliance. She didnt know what he'd said to them, only that it had scared them enough into packing her and Luke into a shuttle two days later.

Revealing their relationship would make clear the real reason for Han's rescue, and undermine Rieekans authority, or worse. So for now, their actions in public were as close to their old friendship as they could imitate, though now their bickering was underscored by a tautness that released itself in snatched moments, hidden in dark corners and behind locked cabin doors.

So though her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, she tucked it away, the weariness of battle helping to dull excitement.

Because, she reflected as she made herself a cup of steaming caff, things werent going well for the Rebellion at the moment. More often then not her and Han's evenings ended not with the release of their look but dont touch policy, but with more meetings, nights gone without sleep or even feeling the touch of a bed. Quick, guilty kisses, snatched in darkened hallways, bodies pressed together briefly, were only a small relief to the frantic work and death around them.

Once, her shirt had been unbuttoned to the waist, his tunic pulled over his head, before a knock on the door called Leia to an emergency war council. The grating sigh and subdued violence with which Han had pulled his collar back over his head gave voice to his feelings. He wanted to tell people, she knew. And so did she. But for now...

She came around the view barrier to stand beside him at the viewport. Han took a sip of his drink, watching a comet cluster in the distance slowly chase itself in circles. "Hi," he murmured.

"Hi back," she replied, watching him from the corner of her eye as she warmed her hands with her mug. His three day beard revealed how much time hed had to himself the last few days, and his wrinkled shirt had probably been snatched from the floor of his cabin on his way through the docking bay because it was nominally tidier than the other one he was wearing. His hair pushed up on one side where she'd found him asleep in a map room, charting systems for supply convoys.

Not that she was faring much better. Her hair in the same bun for three days, stray hairs danced around her face. Her clothes were in better condition that Han's, but only just. And around the ship, everyone looked to be in the same condition. If anyone was getting much sleep, she hadn't heard about it.

Still. She was here, and he was with her. And he loved her, and she loved him. So it couldnt be so bad. Among the killing, the sleepless nights, the frantic fight for supplies and men, there was a place of peace for them. Maybe it wouldn't keep either of them alive at the end of this thing, but it gave them a quiet hope, an excitement for the future that went beyond the desire to just survive that had driven them both for too long.

Han looked at her. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

Leia smiled, and somehow, a peace and quiet content was all that she felt, all that existed between them. Silently, hidden by the observation rail, she brought her hand to his, her fingers linking with his. Without answering, she looked back out to the viewport.

Han let his arm brush Leias as the ghost of a smile ran across his features.

_  
High up above or down below  
When youre too in love to let it go  
But if you never try youll never know  
Just what youre worth_

Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you.  
Paste your document here...


End file.
